


As long as you've got stars in your eyes

by Tyger_Tyger



Series: Keep me coming back to you [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, And there's the smut, Angst, Captain America: The First Avenger, Did I Mention Angst?, M/M, Period Typical Attitudes, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Stealing song lyrics for titles, This isn't pretty, World War II, Writing powered by kudos, descriptions of trauma, i suck at summaries, more tags as we go
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-03
Updated: 2018-03-14
Packaged: 2019-02-10 05:18:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12904917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tyger_Tyger/pseuds/Tyger_Tyger
Summary: Steve finds Bucky, but neither of them are the people they knew.Angst, repression and psychological trauma.This will follow cannon, but with a few extras thrown in.Follows on from But Your Eyes Don't Shine Like They Used To.





	1. I bleed on the west side of my mind

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for all the kudos and comments, guys! As my ability to write is directly proportional to kudos received I have written more of part two of this thingy. Hope you like it!
> 
> Chapter title from Psychotherapy by The Jezabels

The ash was still in his throat, and this new body was better at dealing with adrenaline but everything around him still seemed to be moving out of sync. Taking in the tree line, coordinating the groups of men half starved and hanging in their uniforms, keeping the campfires low, placing sentries along the path. It all rushed through him, a part of his mind spinning with the intensity of it, the reality of succeeding, of throwing this body at something it was intended for and achieving the mission. And the axis that was pinning him to one spot was here beside him, not more than a few feet away ever since they scraped their way out of the fires and debris. Bucky, here, within arms reach. Battered, head held low and shoulders stiffly concaved, a brittle smile for the boys whenever they caught his eye or slapped his back or said sure glad to see you, buddy. Thought you were a goner. 

They were far into the woods now and it was getting too dark to see much of anything. Steve took first watch at the front of the camp, and Bucky simply followed him instead of staying by the fire with the others. He silently curled up on himself against the tree Steve had half climbed up, head back against the wet bark and eyes not quite closed. Even in the dim light he looked pale, the dirt and soot making him paler still, and his cheek bones were stark above the scruff of stubble. Steve wanted to reach out to him, pull him close, hold him tight and tell him it wasn’t alright but that it would be. But after that initial heady rush of clutching at each other beside the burning base, whenever Steve had touched him Bucky had stiffened, frozen in place like he didn’t know where he was or what he was supposed to do. And Steve had figured pretty quick that it was this too-big body causing it, the strange dichotomy of Steve being here with him but not being the same person he’d left behind. It made something inside Steve shrink away, want to hide when he caught the look in Bucky’s eye when he thought he wasn’t looking. Like disbelief but worse. Like loss. 

Steve scoped out the surrounding woodland, figured that he’d hear anything approaching just as well from the ground as from in the branches. He dropped down into the cloying leaf litter with enough noise so as not to startle Bucky, who just looked up at him blankly and went back to not sleeping. Steve stood leaning against the same thick tree trunk in what he hoped was a companionable silence, but which was probably just awkward. And that was ridiculous, because there were so few things between them that were awkward and this – finding each other, being together again. This shouldn’t be one of them. 

“I wrote you a letter.” Bucky said, voice rough and eyes closed. 

“I, er. I wouldn’t have been at home to get it, sorry.” Steve said, not sure how he was supposed to respond to that tone of voice. He’d never heard Bucky’s words sound like that before. Empty beyond exhaustion but with something burning underneath. 

“No shit. Never sent it anyone, fuck knows where it is.”

“Why didn’t you send it, Buck?”

“Didn’t want you to worry, didn’t want to set your nerves off.” Bucky laughed bitterly, no humour and all acid. “Thought you were safe at home in Brooklyn, watching those fucking newsreels tryin’ to spot me smiling at the camera. You know those things are all horseshit, right? They only film the new guys before they’ve seen any action.”

Steve didn’t say anything because he didn’t know what to say.

“But no. You were already signed up to be a fuckin’ lab rat. As if you hadn’t had enough quacks poking at you your whole life.”

“Bucky, look. I don’t expect you to understand why I did it, but I couldn’t just sit at home and do nothing while so many other men were laying down their lives for something so important. I - ”

Bucky made an ugly noise around an ugly smile.

“You are so fucking naïve.”

“How can you say that? You’ve got no idea what it’s like to be so desperate to make a difference but feel useless and - ”

“Don’t I? What, I don’t know what it’s like to feel so fucking useless that if I got shot dead the only difference it would make is to the guy behind me who’d have an extra lump to step over? Because that’s what war is, pal. It’s guys dyin’ for no fucking good reason. They sold us a crock of shit and we bought it, hook line and sinker. And what did you end up doin’ – what was the difference you made? You fucking peddled it for them.”

Bucky practically spat the word, whole body tensing in a tight curve of anger and he wouldn’t look at Steve’s face. Just stared passed him, a cold sheen of sweat on his brow catching the flick of dirty hair as his head moved with the bitterness of his voice. 

“You just went on sellin’ it. I saw the posters, we all saw them. We all thought ‘who the fuck is that wiseass grinnin’ like a clown while we’re up to our asses in mud and blood and rain’. Why the fuck did you do it, Stevie? Why’d you let them do that to you if that was all they were gonna use you for?”

“Jesus Buck, it wasn’t like that at all. I got picked for some new program, they were testing the serum out on me to see if it worked and if it did they were gonna give it to loads of guys, build an new army of super soldiers or something. It was s’posed to be the quickest way to end the war, we were s’posed to wipe the Nazis out with it. But Hydra got into the lab and killed Erskine, the doctor – they killed him and all the serum was destroyed so they were just stuck with me. And they wouldn’t let me serve, wanted me in the lab so they could try to replicate what they gave me, but a senator got wind of it all, and had me selling bonds and - . Well, what else was I meant to do? The army didn’t want me.”

Bucky was staring at him now, mouth open like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. 

“I came out here last week to start doing a tour of the army camps. It wasn’t exactly what I’d planned for when I signed up, but it was the only way I could be useful.” Steve said, voice fading into silence as he kicked his toes into the damp undergrowth. He could see Bucky was still looking at him but he didn’t want to meet his eyes now that he’d actually put words to the shame that had been sinking in his stomach. 

“So let me get this straight.” Bucky began, and God Steve knew that tone of voice and something inside him shrank back from it. “You didn’t get pumped full of fucking horse juice or somethin’ so that you could flash your muscles and smile for the cameras. You let some mad fuckin’ scientist experiment on you so they could make a super army.”

“Yeah.” 

“You are a fucking moron. How many people they test it on before you?”

“Buck, that don’t matter - ”

“How fuckin’ many!” Bucky shouted, jumping to his feet and slamming his fist back against the tree.

“No one, ok! They didn’t do it on anyone before me.”

Bucky was breathing heavily, hand against the tree and Steve wouldn’t look at him, but then Bucky’s feet seemed to slip out from under him and he was trying to hold himself up. Steve jumped forward, grabbed him before he went to his knees and slowly sat him back down.

“Hey Buck, it’s ok. Come on, sit down buddy. You just need to take it easy.”

“I can’t fucking believe you.” Bucky said, slightly breathless. “You are un-fucking-believable. Why you gotta do it Stevie? Why you gotta prove something all the time?”

“Come on Bucky, let’s just give it a rest huh?” 

Bucky’s legs splayed out around him and Steve rearranged them to get him comfortable. He was going to move back and give him some space, but instead of going rigid at being touched Bucky leant into him, so Steve sat beside him, took his weight against his side and put his arm around his shoulder. 

“When did they recruit you, Steve? Was it that last night at the Expo? I made you promise not to go back. You lie to me about that as well?”

“Bucky, I ain’t lied to you.”

“I’m too fuckin’ tired to argue with you. Just shut the fuck up.”

“I don’t know why you’re so mad at me. I had the chance to actually make a difference for once, why shouldn’t I have taken it?”

“You already made a difference, Stevie.” Bucky voice was quieter, all the fight gone out of it. “You didn’t need to change nothin’ about you to make a difference.”

Steve sighed, leant his head against Bucky’s and pulled him a bit closer. 

“Asthma’s gone.” he said, trying to fill the silence. “Kink in my back’s all straight. No more dodgy heart or lungs. That’s gotta be worth somethin’, huh? You won’t have to take no more time off work when we get home looking after me every winter, I don’t think I can even catch a cold now. They always said my body’d kill be before I made thirty. It’s all fixed now.”

Bucky breathed out heavily, pulled his knees in tighter against himself.

“Yeah. Now you get to find a whole load of new ways to get yourself killed.”

Steve thought about replying but figured he was better off staying quiet. He looked down at Bucky’s face, saw his eyes were closed. There were dark smudges beneath them and he could see the edge of a bruise above his collar. He wanted to ask what had happened, what they’d done to him, but he couldn’t bring himself to form the words. 

The silence stretched between them, just the wet sounds of the forest and the dark. The cold was starting to seep through his clothes, but Bucky seemed to finally be close to sleeping so he didn’t want to move him. Something too small to be a person made a noise in the undergrowth, and he turned to see the outline of an animal he didn’t recognise twenty feet away. It’s fur was sleek and dark, and it stared at them unmoving for a moment before turning and making it’s way back into the bushes. 

“What did you write in your letter, Buck?” he asked softly, but Bucky was either asleep or faking it. He didn’t reply.

\-----------------

Steve had watched Bucky’s face when they got back to camp, when he was cheering. Bucky knew he looked proud in a fierce way, because he’d thought he was going to have to argue with the general about Steve’s conduct, and then was uncharacteristically relieved when he didn’t need to. Steve had been taken off for debrief and to report all the details of the weapons he’d seen at the base, but he looked back at Bucky as he was leaving, stopped dead until he caught his eye. Bucky gave his best approximation of a smile and nodded for him to go on, he’d be fine. And then the medics wanted to see them all, and especially him when they found out where he’d been. He could have decked whoever it was that told them. 

Everything was spinning in and out of reality. He was back with the unit but everything was still mud and cold and he expected to suddenly wake up somewhere else, like the film reel had slipped and the projector was sticking. The smiles of all the other soldiers seemed grotesque, spread thin and toothy across their faces like their skulls were trying to get out, and he was so fucking tired, that must be it. Just tired and stupid with it. 

He’d walked up at the front all the way back through the woods, hadn’t seen the injuries of the men they’d carried out with them. But the infirmary tent was filled with them, eyes blankly staring from behind bandages, limbs half there, bloody gauze and needles. Someone had been screaming but a doctor had pinned him down, given him something to shut him up thank God, just make him shut the fuck up already, what was he screaming about – it was over wasn’t it? No use in screaming now it’s done. They were the lucky ones, _hey Barnes, ain’t that right - we’re the lucky ones huh? _and Bucky’s rough nails where almost drawing blood in his palms where his fists were so tight from trying not to punch this stupid fucker next to him in his stupid face.__

__But then the doctor called him in, took him through a tarp used to section off an area big enough for a bed and a table and now he was going to have to say what happened. Bucky’s mouth moved and words came out and he answered the quack’s questions. He stripped off and turned and bent over and coughed. Said he’d come back later to get that nasty scrape and the laceration on his chest cleaned up. Said he was fine. Yes, he was fine. The doctor was in his fifties, had probably been around the first time round to see shell shock for himself, and Bucky hated it all suddenly when he put a hand on his shoulder, eyes gentle and too kind as he said take it easy son, you need to get a lot of rest and he wanted to run, crawl out of his own skin, be anywhere that wasn’t here._ _

__He walked out of there feeling drunk, like he’d had too much beer on an empty stomach and he legs couldn’t keep up with how fast the world was moving past him. He stumbled, caught his feet under himself and people were looking at him like they knew. They knew something fucking awful had happened to him like it was written on his forehead, and it was too bright out here and there were too many people and he was suffocating from all the people looking._ _

__He made himself walk, head down, eyes on the mud beneath him, trying to count to a hundred and back again like his Ma taught him, but that just made him think of home and the smell of coffee in the mornings when his Pa drained his mug and kissed his sisters goodbye and have a good day at school girls and he couldn’t breathe. He ducked between two tents and crouched down, elbows on his knees and head in his hands and he must be fucking loosing it because he thought he could hear women giggling, but then there were two showgirls walking by and what the hell were they even doing here? Laughing at how they couldn’t walk straight in the mud, curls falling down on their shoulders, lipstick perfect and so fucking pretty that they had no right to be here where everything was nervous exhaustion, where nothing felt or looked or sounded right, like a violin played wrong._ _

__And then they must have double backed because they’d seen him, with a hey honey, are you ok? and what a stupid fucking question that was. The noise he made wasn’t anywhere near a laugh and suddenly they were too close to him and he had to cover his face to stop the noise from coming out._ _

__“Ain’t you Steve’s friend?”_ _

__“Sure he is, I saw them earlier.”_ _

__They were talking, and Bucky was trying to get himself together, but he had to hide his face from one of the girls when she got down beside him._ _

__“He don’t look so good, Patty. Think we should get a nurse?”_ _

__“No, we just gotta get him somewhere quiet, my brother gets like this sometimes. Listen, why don’t you come back with us, huh? Steve’s got a real comfy bed all to himself in our dressing room, sure he won’t mind you using it. You’re looking real tired. Are you tired, honey?”_ _

__“Yeah.” Bucky said, voice tight because he couldn’t get enough air in his lungs. “Real tired.”_ _

__“Come on.” she said, looping her arm through his. “You can walk us back, hey? Get his other arm, Marsha.”_ _

__The other girl was looking at him like his head might explode, but Patty smiled at him and even though it was forced it was still kind. He tried to walk up straight, tried to make it look like he was walking the girls when they were actually taking more of his weight. But Patty just kept talking quietly about nothing, just words the way you’d calm a frightened dog, and then they were in a tent that smelled like his sister’s room and there were other girls looking at him wide eyed, surprised. But Patty pulled a partition back and there was a bed, there was an upturned crate with Steve’s fucking sketchbook on it, the same battered old thing from Brooklyn and the sight of it made his head spin._ _

__“Here sweetie, you just rest up in here a while. You want me to get you anything? Some water or somethin’?”_ _

__Bucky just kept looking at the sketchbook like it might jump up and slap him across the face._ _

__“Honey? It’s James, ain’t it? You want a drink, James?”_ _

__“Uh, no. No thanks.” he said, voice rough and eyes still staring. He glanced up at her, saw the other girl standing back warily. “No, I might just…”_ _

__“You go ahead and lie down. I’ll tell the girls to keep quiet. You just rest up, hey?”_ _

__“Yeah, I’ll. I’ll do that.”_ _

__The tarp rustled closed behind them and he lay down, hissed a wince as he lay on the wrong side and turned. He buried his face in the pillow, and it smelled like Steve, like home, like cold nights and warm hands and Steve’s clean sweat and mornings where he just wanted to sink deeper into the space between them._ _

__He kept his sobs low, didn’t want to scare the girls any more that he already had. He could hear their soft murmuring from outside, smell their cigarette smoke and perfume. Once he’d cried the tension out of his shoulders he lay still, wanted to reach out and open the sketchbook, but he didn’t think he could handle the familiar pencil drawings of the view from their apartment._ _

__He must have slept, because he was aware of waking up to the sound of voices. His body froze, tried to figure out where the hell he was, but then he knew this was Steve’s bed, and that was Steve’s voice, hushed but worried. And that was Patty, saying something quiet, something about shock. Bucky rolled onto his back, lifted a knee up to try to relieve the pain across his hip, closed his eyes and tried to make his breathing slow down._ _

__Steve stepped through into the little bedroom. Bucky looked over at him, hated the hesitant look on his face, like he was waiting for something bad to happen. Steve’s smile was tight, didn’t reach his eyes._ _

__“Hey Buck.” he said, slowly sitting down on the side of the bed. “Get any sleep?”_ _

__“Yeah.” he replied, annoyed at how quiet his voice sounded._ _

__“You manage to find a shower or just washed your face?_ _

__“I er. I showered. Before I saw the doc.”_ _

__“Good.” Steve said, looking at the floor. This wasn’t what he’d come in to talk about. “I been speaking to the General. He said you boys can all be on the next flight home if you want it. Being POWs and all.”_ _

__“Uh huh. You headin’ Stateside too?”_ _

__“Can’t. They just started to take me seriously, Buck. I can’t leave now.”_ _

__“Course not.”_ _

__Steve looked at him, confused by Bucky’s flat tone, the lack of anything in it. Like he was just reciting words he’d read somewhere._ _

__“Right. Well, what’s the doc said?”_ _

__Steve was about as subtle as a brick when it came to changing an awkward subject. Bucky would have rolled his eyes if he’d had the energy._ _

__“Said I had to go back. Get a dressing.”_ _

__“When you goin’ back?”_ _

__“Not.”_ _

__“What d’you mean you’re not?”_ _

__Bucky caught his eye, stared hard and level._ _

__“Last thing I need is someone else proddin’ me.”_ _

__“Right.” Steve said. “I’ll get the first aid kit.”_ _

__Bucky did roll his eyes then, but Steve wasn’t there to see it. He always did this, found some practical thing to do with himself when he didn’t know what to say or what else to do. He was back again with a field kit, sorting through bandages and little tins. He looked up at Bucky, who had pulled himself up to sit upright, hands behind him propping him up._ _

__“Take you shirt off then, Buck.” he said, eyebrows going up expectantly when Bucky didn’t move. Like it was easy. Bucky stared back at him, knew his eyes looked mean, knew his mouth was screwed up like it did when he got pissed off but couldn’t do anything about it. “If the doc said you need a dressing that’s what you’re getting. You think you can do it better than Ma taught me? I’ve been patching you up for years, buddy.”_ _

__Bucky carried on staring at him as Steve picked out when he was going to use. He didn’t want this, not even a little, but there wasn’t any way out of it that wouldn’t end in an argument. He closed his eyes, felt the breath sigh out of him as he undid the buttons, stiffly slid the shirt off his arms, pulled the vest up over his head. He crossed his arms over his stomach, hunched low and stared at the bed in front of his ankles. Tried to make himself smaller._ _

__He wasn’t looking, but he knew the moment Steve saw the state of him. Steve’s hands froze mid air, he took a shallow gasp and said something too quiet to hear. Bucky knew how he looked. Knew his entire right side was mottled blues and yellows from the bruising. Knew the cut across his ribs was ragged and had scabbed up ugly. Knew Steve could see the edge of the bruises and heavy grazes across his hip, from where he’d rubbed the skin raw against the leather strap holding him to the table._ _

__“Jesus Christ, Bucky.” Steve whispered, reaching out a hand towards him. But Bucky shifted away so Steve’s fingers glanced off his forearm. Steve placed his hand there anyway, running his thumb gently over the scratches, like maybe they would rub off. “What did they do to you?”_ _

__“I don’t wanna talk about it.” Bucky said, mouth hardly moving from the tension in his jaw._ _

__“Buck, please. You can tell me whatever -”_ _

__“I said no! Fuck off, Steve!” Bucky roared, something in him snapping, making himself jump as well as Steve, and Steve’s hand shot back to himself like he’d been struck. Bucky hadn’t been aware of the gentle chatter from the girls outside, but their shocked silence overwhelmed him then, with the look on Steve’s face, looking at him like he didn’t know him. And how fucked up was that – Bucky wasn’t the one who’d tripled in size and turned up in the middle of Europe with the fucking army behind him. Bucky wasn’t the one who’d changed._ _

__He felt his body fold in on itself, knees drawn up and arms bend as he covered his face with his hands, rubbing his eyes until the darkness swam with stars, counting numbers in his head. Steve was saying his name, his voice quiet and thick._ _

__Steve lent forward, wrapped heavy arms around him and pulled him close, and Bucky was suffocating again, held too tight by a stranger who smelled like Steve. He made some animal noise, twisted away to get out of Steve’s grip and tumbled off the bed, knocking over the crate and everything on it. The sketchbook landed open, a page half turned showing part of a drawing Steve had done last summer, a copy of photo of the two of them at Coney Island. Bucky’s arm slung loose around Steve’s skinny frame, collarbones sticking out all over the place and squinting in the sun._ _

__Bucky felt regret and loss crawl up his insides like vomit, sobbing out of him. Steve was on his knees beside him, hands perched wanting to reach out but holding back, face stricken._ _

__“What d’you do, Stevie – what did you do…” Bucky muttered, breath gasping in and out of him._ _

__“I - ” Steve’s mouth was open, empty of words._ _

__“Holy fuck.” Bucky said, catching his breath, covering his eyes, trying to focus, get himself back together. “Just – just gimme a minute.”_ _

__Steve’s hands dropped to his thighs as he sat back on his heels, face frowning with worry. Bucky counted his breaths. Pushed down everything he didn’t want to feel._ _

__“You wanna help me up?” he asked gently, held a hand out to Steve, gave him something to do._ _

__“Sure.” Steve sat him down on the bed, busied himself picking everything up, righting the crate, putting things back._ _

__Bucky watched the way he moved. He took up so much room in this little space. But there was still that hesitant grace about him, the way he gripped his fingers around his sketchbook like it was the most precious thing he could touch, how he kept turning to look at Bucky. Held his head at the same angle, half way between defiance and something softer, eyes locked like Bucky was the only thing important enough to hold his attention. The same lines across his forehead from frowning with worry, that particular shade of concern Bucky only ever saw directed at himself._ _

__Sarah Rogers had a couple of photos of Steve with his Dad, before Bucky had known him. He felt like he did when he’d seen them – like he was seeing a different version of Steve that didn’t look like him yet, like he was waiting to be the person Bucky knew. A pale grey image, Steve’s face toddler soft, features rounder with a looser grin. But still unmistakably him, in some way Bucky couldn’t define._ _

__Steve sat down on the ground then, crossed his legs with hands on his knees like he’d been doing since he was seven._ _

__“What do you want me to do, Buck?”_ _

__Bucky closed his eyes. He wanted Steve to be Steve again, safe back in Brooklyn being the goal Bucky was fighting his way towards. But that was selfish, wasn’t it? It wasn’t fair to force Steve into being a symbol for the home he couldn’t go back to. No one could force Steve Rogers into being anything, anyway. Contrary punk would swear black was white if he had his mind set to it. In the end, even the army couldn’t force him into being something he wasn’t._ _

__“Just. I don’t know, Steve. I’m so fucking tired.”_ _

__Steve slowly put his hand over Bucky’s, and Bucky pulled it up to his face, leant into his palm, felt tears spill from his eyes again. Steve knelt up in front of him, gently put his other hand on the back of Bucky’s neck with fingers through the hair there, where it had started to grow too long._ _

__“Bucky…” Steve leant his forehead against Bucky’s, and this close his face was still the same. His hands felt the same, artist hands, callused from pencils and not triggers. “Bucky, let me get you cleaned up hey? Just lie down, let me dress that cut. You can go back to sleep, I’ll stay here with you, make sure no one comes in.”_ _

__Bucky nodded, and Steve pulled him closer and pressed his face to Bucky’s neck. Bucky leant heavily on him, and it felt better then, to just not think about anything. Let Steve take care of it, even if it didn’t quite feel like Steve anymore._ _

__Steve’s lips were soft against his skin, warm and still, and Bucky slowly draped his arms around Steve’s shoulders. Something in Steve’s body relaxed then, just slightly, and that was what felt familiar suddenly. The tension Steve always carried lessening when he was in Bucky’s arms. Bucky closed his eyes. Let Steve take care of him._ _


	2. Some things go south and never turn around

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And there's the smut.
> 
>  
> 
> Chapter title from "Till St Dymphna Kicks Us Out" by Conor Oberst

Once they made it to England it had only taken a couple of Steve’s ‘ah shucks’ smiles to get him the leave to go to a hotel instead of the barracks, but in the meantime he apparently had a tab to take care of. The pub was loud and one of the keys on the piano kept playing a bum note, and every time it did and Bucky didn’t laugh from his stool beside him at the bar Steve was reminded of how much Bucky must have been holding in. He kept knocking back the whisky, and he was talking, much more now than that first awful week in Italy. He was even flirting with the girls, but Steve could see there was a part of him absent. Or maybe it was a new part that hadn’t been there before, just behind his eyes. When he asked Agent Carter to dance Steve saw it, a sharp edge that pushed him past charming and made him seem coarse and brash.

When they left he tried to throw an arm around Steve’s shoulder, but he missed and hit his back.

“That used to work when you were shorter.”

“Yeah, I’m still getting used to it.”

Bucky snorted half a laugh and fell into stride beside Steve as they made their way through the quiet streets. There wasn’t a blackout on, but it was still pretty dark and quiet, as though London had just gotten used to staying in shadow. Steve kept glancing to his side, felt some relief as Bucky seemed to relax a little now they were on their own.

“So where’s this fancy hotel you’re treatin’ me to?”

“It’s not fancy, Buck. It’s nearby, I think. This place is a maze, none of the streets make any sense.”

“Well keep an eye out for a liquor store, that cheap barman must be watering down his whiskey.”

They found an off licence, but Steve got confused between a lane and an avenue with the same name, and Bucky snatched the map out of his hands with an _enhanced tactical skills my ass, Rogers. You still can’t read directions for shit._ Half an hour later they turned up at the hotel, which was more of a large guest house, and Steve made Bucky hide his bottle of whiskey under his coat.

The room was small, the twin beds made up in a dusky pink bedspread, and Bucky smiled at the _fuckin’ lace doilies everywhere Steve, I don’t get it._ He opened the door he had obviously thought led to a cupboard and gasped loudly. Steve spun around, still on high alert to any unexpected sounds Bucky made, but Bucky was beaming at him, eyes wide.

“Holy fuck Steve, they’ve got a bath!”

“Yeah, I asked for an en suite.”

“Do you think they’ve got hot water?”

“S’what it says on the sign outside.”

“Holy shit.” Bucky said, reverently as he went into the tiny restroom, barely any space between the toilet and the bath. “Stevie, lookit they’ve got bubble bath!” he said, holding out the little bottle like it was made of gold. “I’m gettin’ straight in.” he said, turning on the taps and practically bouncing when the water came out warm.

“Knock yourself out, buddy” Steve said, smiling, relieved. He sat on one of the beds, stretched his legs out and started reading through the reports he’d been given. Every now and then Bucky made some small exclamation of joy at the rediscovery of some little piece of homely comfort he’d been missing. The pipes seemed to be complaining rather loudly, but eventually Bucky turned off the taps and stepped into the water.

The sounds he made as he settled into the bath went straight to Steve’s dick, so much so that he thought Bucky must be making lewd noises on purpose to make him laugh.

“You alright in there, Buck? Enjoyin’ yourself?”

“Stevie you got no fuckin’ idea. Get in here, and bring my cigarettes and whiskey.”

Steve chuckled to himself, abandoned his report and went into the bathroom, handed Bucky his bottle and sat down on the floor. Bucky took a drink, lips red from the neat liquor, throat working just above the waterline.

“Want some?” he said, holding the bottle out.

“Nah Buck, I don’t think I can get drunk anymore, not since the serum.”

“Well ain’t that a shame.” Bucky said, deadpan as he put the bottle down on the toilet lid, and Steve couldn’t make out the look in his eyes. “You bring my smokes?”

“Yeah.” Steve held out the packet, but Bucky just raised his eyebrows, lifted his hands half out of the water, and Steve knew that look of I’ve got wet hands, moron. Steve rolled his eyes, couldn’t help the affectionate smile at the familiarity of the situation as he lit a cigarette and placed it between Bucky’s lips, trying not to let his fingers press against his mouth. “I’ve done that enough times for you when you’ve come home too drunk to stand.”

“Yeah, well at least this time you ain’t choking your guts up from one puff.”

Steve settled, leaning back against the side of the tub at the foot end, watching Bucky as he lay there with his eyes closed and occasionally sucking on the cigarette. His eyes drifted lower, and for the first time he realised that Bucky’s body had changed too. Now that the cuts and bruises had faded a bit it was like Steve could see his body properly. It was leaner, the heavier muscles around his shoulders from hauling crates at the docks had evened out, and now he was wiry muscle all over, his stomach taut and flat.

“Like what you see?” Bucky said, and Steve’s face shot up, flushing red already, to see Bucky looking at him through half lidded eyes, cigarette at an angle from his lips.

“Sorry Buck, I -”

And suddenly Bucky was laughing, playful and face screwed up.

“Ah, shut up.” Steve said, smiling, laughing as the ash dropped off the end of the cigarette into the water, Bucky swearing as he took it from his mouth and scooped the ash out, then swearing louder when he looked at the cigarette now wet from his fingers.

‘Shit shit shit, Steve look what you made me do!” he said, still laughing.

“I didn’t do nothin’, you spoilt your own cigarette!”

“Jesus, here take it. No, just flick the cherry out, I’ll dry it off for later. Pass me that towel, will you? Holy Christ, will you feel that? Is this thing made of starch? No wonder the Brits are so stuck up if this is how stiff their towels are.” he said, pulling a goofy face and doing a bad English accent.

And it was the most Bucky-like thing Steve had seen him do since he’d found him, and it made his chest flip over as he laughed and laughed, as he felt it so strongly, how much he loved him.

“God, I missed you Buck.” he said, resting his chin on his arm on the side of the bath. Bucky was still laughing, took another swig from the bottle.

“Missed you too, pal. A hell of a lot.”

“I was serious though Buck, when I said you should go home if you want to.”

“Shut it, Rogers.” he replied, pointing a finger but still light hearted. “I told you how it’s gonna be. Besides, you’re a hero now. You’re gonna need me around to keep you grounded so’s you don’t get too big for your ridiculous costume boots.”

“I’m not a hero, Buck.” he said, looking down, voice getting quiet.

“Steve, you just busted an entire regiment out of enemy territory single handed. No, listen, don’t make that face with me, it don’t work, you know it don’t. Every single one of those men owes their life to you – if that don’t make you a hero what would?”

“Bucky, I didn’t go in there to save all those men.” Steve said, emotion choking up his words and making them clumsy. “I only went in there to get you, I just had to find you. I would have gone in there if it had only been you, I ain’t nobody’s hero.”

Bucky was silent for a minute, and Steve didn’t dare look up from where he’d been staring at a crack in the tiled floor.

“Sounds like you’re my hero, then.” Bucky said softly.

“Don’t say that, Buck. I shouldn’t have – if I’d have been…I should have got you out sooner, I should have asked them where the 107th were as soon as we landed in Italy but I didn’t because I’m an idiot and I’m selfish and I got wrapped up in the idea they sold me as, just like you said. They had be believin’ it actually mattered.”

Steve could hear the water sloshing where Bucky was sitting up, hear him trying to make soft sounds to interrupt, but he couldn’t stop the words once they’d started.

“I couldn’t see, not until I got here. And you’re right, you were right what you said, I was just a fucking puppet, not a soldier, not even close to being a soldier, a performing monkey – that’s what I was, that’s what I let them do to me. And I was so wrapped up in the whole thing that I didn’t think, and then Carter said where you were and it hit me, just like that – that was what I was meant to do, that’s what this was for. So I had to, I had to go get you, even if you were dead already I had to get you, I couldn’t leave you there…”

And he was crying then, breath catching and eyes wet, and Bucky’s hands were damp on his shoulder and his forearm and he was leaning down to him, jaw against his hair and gently shushing him.

“It’s ok Stevie, don’t beat yourself up. You did good, buddy.”

And it was nice, for a minute to just take the comfort, take the care from Bucky, listen to his voice soft and placating. But it wasn’t right, he wasn’t the one who deserved it. So he stopped, caught his breath, sat back up again and met Bucky’s eyes where they were frowning and brimming with concern.

“I should have come and got you sooner, Buck. I should have got there before they took you to that lab and did what they did.”

Steve saw the shadows around Bucky’s eyes, thought of how he’d been trying so hard to just hold himself together since they’d found him, the way he woke up gasping and crying out in the night.

“What did they do to you?”

Bucky winced, and Steve knew he shouldn’t have said it but he’d wanted to ask every day since they’d left Italy, and Bucky hadn’t said one word about it.

“I -” Bucky started after a long pause, looking down at the water. “I don’t really know, I can’t – it’s such a mess.” He ran his hand through his hair, tugged at it and looked up to the ceiling like he was exasperated by the whole thing. “They were sticking needles in me and I kept drifting in and out, and I don’t even know how long I was there for, it’s only the boys tellin’ me how long that I know. They were just, I don’t know – kept sticking things in my mouth and they did something made me feel like my insides were tryin’ to burn their way outta me, and - ”

Bucky stopped, voice getting tighter, frowning and not meeting Steve’s eye. And Steve didn’t want to hear it, his hands were clenching to fists with the anger of it, the uselessness he felt, but he needed to know. He saw the tears welling in Bucky’s eyes, heard them catch in his throat, breathy little sobs and head shaking slowly, like maybe even he couldn’t believe the things that had happened to him.

“And it must have been a while after that, I don’t know, but I thought they were torturing me and I couldn’t see what they were doin’ because I was strapped down but it hurt like fuck Steve, like I didn’t even know something could hurt that much. They were cutting my side with something and I swear – I swear to Christ Stevie all I said was my name rank and number, I swear – ”

Bucky looked at him then, desperate and serious and grabbing his arm, and Steve bit his bottom lip to stop his own tears as Bucky struggled around the words.

“I swear that’s all I told them but I – I was so scared of what they were gonna do next, and they weren’t even fucking talking to me, no questions, no nothin’, and then I said, I asked them – I must have screamed it, I asked what it was they wanted to know, what information were they tryin’ to get out of me.”

Bucky hung his head, shoulders curved forward and breathing heavy, broken by the weight of it. Steve reached his hand out through the water to hold his arm, just to touch him.

“And they laughed, I think once they’d figured out what I was saying. They laughed and one of them spoke a bit of English, said they didn’t want to know anything, it wasn’t about that. They said it was an experiment, research. And I knew then, that moment I knew I was gonna fucking die on that table, that was it. And I’m a fuckin’ coward because I think I would’ve told them anything they wanted to fucking know then, I’d have told them anything to make it stop.”

Bucky’s head was in his hands, and the sobs were shaking their way through him as he bent forward, crying like Steve had never seen anybody cry before, like someone so broken on the inside their ribs couldn’t hold it in anymore.

“Bucky, Jesus Christ.” Steve whispered, voice raw. He reached out, tried to gently push Bucky back to sitting up again but he pulled away from Steve, some wretched noise torn from him. “Hey, come on, anyone would’ve thought that. Hell, I would have.”

Bucky shook his head, couldn’t make the words but Steve knew he was trying to argue with him, trying to say Steve would have borne it better. And Steve couldn’t stand for him to think that, not for one minute, and without even thinking he was getting up and climbing into the bath, tugging Bucky to him, slotting between his limbs and holding tight, pulling him close as the water sloshed and spilled onto the floor.

Bucky collapsed into him, pressed his face into Steve’s shoulder as he cried, and all Steve could do was move his hand gently up and down his back, pull him closer, whisper things which couldn’t comfort him.

Bucky’s breathing evened out after a while, and he rested his face against Steve’s shoulder, arms going slack as the tension started to seep out of him. Steve cupped the warm water in his hand, brought it up and over Bucky’s skin to stop him getting cold. It was peaceful, almost. Just the sounds of their breathing and the water, the steady hum of the city street outside. They’d never done this at home, the bath was communal and there was never enough hot water to do anything other than quickly wash in it. But it almost felt like home, the two of them taking up each other’s space.

“You’re an idiot.” Bucky said, voice thick but with no weight behind it.

“Oh yeah? How’d you figure?” Steve’s lips were against the back of Bucky’s neck, and he should move. Shouldn’t leave his mouth there, but Bucky was heavy in his arms, the water was still warm and if he closed his eyes then just for a minute he could pretend things could be different.

“You got one pair of pants and you just got ’em soaking wet.”

“Huh. Guess I did, didn’t I.”

“You’re gonna have to salute the Colonel tomorrow back at base tryin’ not to walk like you pissed yourself.”

“Sure looks that way.”

Bucky sniffed, sat up slightly so there was a little room between their bodies.

“Only got one shirt too. Just as well I took my jacket off already.”

Bucky’s mouth turned up slightly, but he didn’t raise his eyes.

“Just as well you kept that circus suit of yours.”

Steve was surprised by his own laugh jumping out of his mouth. Bucky smiled then, always smiled when he could make Steve laugh, and Steve leant his forehead against Bucky’s shoulder.

“You imagine the look on Phillips’s face if you turned up in that? ‘Sorry Colonel, but I’ll only lead these men in my uniform. And I want a banner with my slogan on it to march with into every battle.’”

Bucky always did a good impression of Steve, could always get the cadence right with mock sincerity that never bordered on mean. Steve was still laughing, and it was like letting something go, like getting something back he didn’t think he’d see again. If the two of them could fool around sat in a bath of cooling water not big enough for both of them, if Bucky could still pull that goofy face of his which always cracked Steve up. If they could still do that then maybe things would be alright.

“Who came up with that one? ‘Star Spangled Man with a Plan’? Really?”

“I don’t even know.” Steve said, pushing his face closer into Bucky’s neck as the water sloshed dangerously high around them.

“What was your plan, huh?” Bucky asked, smirking as he turned a little to look at Steve who was trying to bury himself further under Bucky’s chin.

“To sock old Adolf in the jaw.” Steve mumbled, cringing and laughing at the same time.

“Oh great. That’s a great plan, Steve, that’s aces. I don’t know why they didn’t give you a chair in the War Room just on that.”

“Shut up, jerk.”

“You gonna make me, punk?” Bucky laughed, pulling back to sit up to his full height.

“I probably could now, you know.” Steve said.

Bucky’s eyes were dark under a wet slick of hair, his lips open around that almost cocky grin.

“Wanna bet?” he said, jaw flicking forward, challenging.

Steve kissed him. Didn’t even think, just closed the gap between them, pushed forward and kissed him. Slid his hand up the back of his neck and pressed their mouths together. Bucky gasped, just half a breath but enough space for Steve’s tongue. They hadn’t done it like this last time, stood in their tiny kitchen with an aching chasm opening between them, then it had been desperate in a different way. Now Bucky was leaning into him, kissing him back and pulling him closer, breathy sounds slipping between them.

“What - ” Steve whispered, not certain how he was going to finish the question.

“Shut up, Stevie.” Bucky said, hand around the back of his head, kissing him again and sucking his lower lip into his mouth. “God, you still taste the same.”

And Steve was going to say something, caught up thinking that maybe Bucky remembered the other two times they’d kissed as vividly as Steve did. But then Bucky began to stand up, leaning on Steve’s shoulders for balance as the whiskey seemed to catch up with his legs. Steve felt the withdrawal all the way to his stomach, the sinking feeling of rejection while panic started to rush up his chest because that had been so stupid. But Bucky was tugging him up by the arms, dragging him out of the tub.

Half the bathwater seemed to be in Steve’s waterlogged clothes. Bucky didn’t catch his eye as he turned and grabbed a towel and began to move towards the door.

“Buck,” Steve began, half a whisper from the tightness in his throat. “I -”

Bucky looked over his shoulder, and his eyes were still dark beneath his hair, but there was a hint of that smile around his lips as he spoke.

“Come to bed, Steve.”

Steve stood there like a dumb idiot because he didn’t know what Bucky meant by that, if they were just going to turn in like nothing had happened or if Bucky wanted something else. It must have shown on his face, because Bucky relented after a moment, rolling his eyes.

“Come to my bed, Stevie.”

“Right.” Steve said, starting to strip out of his sodden clothes, trying to avoid the ridiculously huge puddles his feet were leaving. He wrung out the worst of the water from his pants and underwear and arranged them on the back of a chair by the litter heater in the bedroom. When he turned around Bucky was lying on one of the beds, staring at him blank and wide-eyed. Steve felt self-consciousness seeping through his skin, realised this was the first time Bucky had seen him naked since before. The first time he’d been seen by anyone who had really known him before. When people looked at him now they saw the serum, they stared at him but he felt like they were looking at somebody else. He didn’t recognise the awe in their eyes as something that should belong to him. But Bucky stared over his naked body like he was looking for something that was supposed to be there but wasn’t, something he’d lost.

Steve instinctively turned to the side, crossed his arms, tried to become smaller. And Bucky must have realised how his face looked then, because he seemed to snap himself out of it, his bravado grin back but only half as wide as usual. Steve had seen that smile before, when Bucky was sweet-talking a girl because he felt like he should more than because he wanted to.

“You gonna come over here or what?” Bucky asked.

Steve walked over to the bed, let Bucky pull him down and flip the blanket over both of them. Steve lay on his back, arms stiff across his chest, not sure what to do with himself. Bucky lay on his side, moved up close so his front was touching Steve all along his side, shoulder to knee.

“You wanna go to sleep?” Bucky asked, voice low and mouth close to Steve’s ear. This close Steve could smell the liquor on his breath. “Or do you want to – fool around. Like back home.”

“You’re drunk, Bucky.” Steve said quietly, because he was, more obviously now than earlier in the night. His eyes were doing that swimming thing like he couldn’t quite focus on Steve’s face.

“So.”

“I’m not sure this -”

Bucky gripped Steve’s dick suddenly, pressing it to full hardness against his palm.

“Fuck,” Steve gasped, head pushed back against the pillow as he arched into Bucky’s hand. “That’s -”

“Some things ain’t changed so much.” Bucky chuckled, moving his hand up and down, twisting his fingers tight. But Steve was all too aware of how different he was.

“I know you can’t – not now. It’s not like you can just close your eyes and pretend I’m a girl anymore.” Steve’s face was flushing red and he was looking at the ceiling, voice getting strained.

“Moron.” Bucky said, ducked down to kiss him, biting kisses along his jaw until Steve made a noise deep in his throat and slid his hands forward to hold Bucky’s hips. “Never did that.”

Steve pulled back, frowning.

“What do you mean you - ”

“Jesus, shut up will you.” Bucky huffed, laughter just a little too close to frustrated. “C’mere.”

Bucky pulled Steve into his space, pressing his hips forward to slide against him and trapped their dicks tight between them. Steve’s mind blanked out, loosing himself to the moment. Bucky moved their hips together, and it sparked heat deep in Steve’s belly, overwhelming him. Bucky smelled of whiskey and cigarettes, and it was like every time he’d come home from spending all night dancing with a girl, except this time it was Steve’s skin that Bucky was stroking, his ass which Bucky was gripping as he mouthed little breathless noises into Steve’s neck and pressed closer.

“Buck -”

“It’s ok, baby. I got you.” Bucky said.

“Did you just call me -” Steve froze, brought back to himself by the word.

Bucky laughed, looking up at Steve from where he’d kissed his way down his chest. In that moment he looked like himself again, and Steve couldn’t stop his hand from reaching out to hold his face. Bucky smiled, leaning into Steve’s palm.

“Hey.” Steve said.

“Hi.”

Bucky did something with his eyebrows which made Steve bark a laugh out loud, like when they were kids and Steve would try to stay straight faced while Bucky kept trying to make him giggle.

Bucky slid further down the bed and took Steve’s cock into his mouth, sucking back up to the head before bobbing down again.

“Fuck…”

Bucky hummed in agreement while his tongue did something Steve couldn’t even comprehend. Steve didn’t know his body could make him feel like this, didn’t know it was possible to be so full of a feeling but want even more of it. Bucky was taking Steve deeper into his mouth until Steve could feel the contours of his throat around the head of his cock, and he tried to pull back because that couldn’t be what Bucky wanted. But Bucky gripped harder at his hips, slid his fingers to knead into the muscle of Steve’s ass, kept him moving shallow thrusts back and forth and deeper.

“Jesus, fuck, Bucky I’m gonna - ”

Steve was tugging at Bucky’s hair, trying to persuade him to back off. It was all too fast, too much, he needed to catch up with himself, wanted this to last, wanted to see Bucky’s face because it didn’t quite feel like he was here with him, not entirely.

But Bucky swallowed around him as he slid two fingers to press into the space behind his balls, and Steve came with a force he hadn’t known before, like it was being ripped out of him.

He head fell back into the pillow as he tried to catch his breath, whimpering slightly as Bucky mouthed his way off his cock, licking as he went.

“Jesus, Rogers. You’re still hard.”

Steve could hear the cocky grin in Bucky’s voice. Eyes still closed, he gestured up and down his body.

“Yeah, it’s uh. Part of the – since this.”

“Huh.” Bucky took Steve’s hand, let them fall onto his chest. “How many times you reckon you can go now?”

“I dunno.”

“What d’you mean you don’t know? How many times have you made it with a dame in one night?”

“I – Bucky, I haven’t.” he said quietly, looking away.

“What, you mean all that time you were touring all around the country and you didn’t -”

“No, I didn’t.”

“What about Carter?”

“What about her? She’s not that kinda girl, Buck.”

“Oh I know she ain’t that kind girl, but she’s sweet on you. And anyway, there must have been plenty of girls batting their eyelashes at you since you look the way you look now, bet you could have your pick of them.”

“Buck, I ain’t a different person just because I look different. I don’t wanna sleep with someone just because I can. They’ve got to be special, it’s got to mean something.”

Steve realised the implication of that last bit as he got to the final word and Bucky’s eyes dropped back to their hands, still pressed together on Steve’s chest. Bucky raised an eyebrow and huffed half a breath, about to say something far too close to the truth, which Steve didn’t want to hear.

“Anyway, where the hell d’you learn to do that with your mouth?”

That surprised a smile out of Bucky and he laughed, eyes bright again.

“S’not so hard. You remember Marsha?”

“Marsha with the freckles?”

“Yeah, Marsha with the freckles. She could do things with her tongue would make you go cross-eyed. It’s not so tough to figure out how something’s done once it’s been done to you. Besides, Army’s full of boys missing their sweethearts. We gotta take our comfort where we can, hey?” Bucky said with a wink.

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Hey, I know your game.” Bucky said, sly smile back in place. “You’re tryin’ to distract me from what I was tryin’ to find out.”

“No I’m not -”

“You are, you sneak!” Bucky said, pinching Steve just in the dip of his stomach that always made him twist away with a squeal.

“No fair, don’t tickle me!” Steve shrieked, sitting up and trying to get his feet under him, but Bucky put more force into it than he used to let himself and almost had him pinned by the shoulders, crawling on top of him to hold his thighs beneath his knees. Steve knew he could have thrown him, could have reversed their positions in less than three seconds, but he didn’t want to because Bucky was beaming, teasing him like they were two kids roughhousing again.

“You are too, ain’t you? Tryin’ to weasel your way out of it.”

“Am not. Don’t say it!”

“You are!” Bucky caught both of Steve’s hands as he flailed, only half trying to knock Bucky’s fingers away from finding all the soft bits along his sides which still made him twitch. Bucky pushed his arms down to pin Steve’s wrists against the pillow, raising his eyebrows in surprise at how much effort he had to put into it. It meant he had to lean his weight forward, ended up with Steve going still beneath him and their noses inches apart. Bucky smiled, lips sharp around his teeth. “You still a virgin, Stevie?”

“Don’t ask me that.” Steve said as he started to blush, trying to turn his face away into the pillow.

“You are, ain’t you? It’s ok, Steve. You don’t gotta be embarrassed about it. Why don’t I help you out, huh?” he asked, voice all mischief.

“Bucky, I don’t want you to set me up with some girl -”

“I’m not talking about that.” Bucky replied, voice serious suddenly. He leant forward, closed the gap between them and kissed him. Steve felt his stomach flip as Bucky took his lip between his teeth, biting gently and then moving his tongue over the same spot, pressing their mouths together into a wet slide of breath and tongues and muffled gasps.

“You got slick?” Bucky asked, voice rough and low.

“What?” Steve said, too dazed to think straight.

“Where’s the Vaseline, Steve?” Bucky said, teasing as he got up and off the bed.

“Oh, it’s in my bag I think. In the first aid kit.”

Bucky walked over to where they had dumped their bags earlier, feet sounding heavy against the floor. He was hunched over slightly, not the confident strut Steve was used to seeing. He moved now like there was something he was holding against his chest, shoulders pulled forward slightly. He rummaged through their packs until he found the little tin and tossed it in the air, catching it triumphantly.

Steve half sat up, leaning back on his elbows. When Bucky came back to the bed he reached out and took his wrist, stopped him from rolling onto his side.

“Not like that.” he said gently. “Just – stay there a sec, ok?”

Steve lay on his back slowly, arms awkward at his sides until Bucky moved over him, bracketing his hips with his knees and shuffling forward. Steve’s hands moved to Bucky’s thighs without thinking, moving up and down over the muscles there as Bucky smiled from above him, eyes hooded. Steve looked up at him, over the flat plain of his stomach, the concave dip beneath his ribs, the curve of his chest, the way his hair shaded half his face where the regulation cut had started to grow out, more like his slicked back style from back home gone loose after a shower.

Bucky had always liked being watched, Steve knew from a hundred nights in bars and dancehalls. Bucky practically preened when he knew a pretty girl was looking, seeing him slide and hop across the dance floor. He’d always smile extra sharp, gesture extra wide talking to Steve if he knew someone who’d caught his eye was looking. Steve never minded, it was enough for him to be the centre of Bucky’s attention, even if it wasn’t really directed at him.

But now Bucky rolled his head to the side, a little grin twisting like they were sharing a secret, and Steve stopped trying to hide the way he usually wanted to look at him, like he was glowing. Like Bucky was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

Bucky winked at him, made Steve’s stomach flip over as he knelt back slightly from how he’d been stretching up, showing off. He slicked up two fingers thick with the Vaseline, slid his hand down and behind his back twisting his middle, and Steve frowned not realising what he was going to do until Bucky’s face tipped up and his mouth went slack, exhaling loudly as his stomach went taut, as his own fingers slid inside himself.

“Jesus, Buck.” Steve whispered, hands on Bucky’s hips as Bucky started to rock back and forth.

He frowned and moaned gently, his whole body twitching in increments as he moved above Steve, back twisting his shoulder forward, his breath catching in his throat.

Steve knew his mouth was hanging open, eyes wide, trying to hold on to the image of Bucky’s face fixed with his own pleasure. Bucky worked his fingers back and forth, rolling his hips until he was practically thrusting back onto his wrist, breath panting quiet noises as he bit his bottom lip. Then Bucky leant forward, grabbed the tin again, huffed a laugh when Steve jumped as he started spreading Vaseline over Steve’s dick.

It felt tacky and strange, and the grimace he was trying to hide must have shown on his face because Bucky was laughing at him.

“What’s the matter, don’t you want it?”

“Want what?” Steve whispered.

“Come on, Stevie. Even you ain’t that dumb. Don’t you wanna put it in me?”

Steve just gawped at him for a moment, which just made Bucky laugh more.

“I mean, we don’t have to…” Bucky said, teasing as his hand stilled.

“No! I mean, yes. Yes, I want to.” Steve said, felt his face flushing even redder than it was already.

“That’s what I thought.” Bucky practically purred, stroking Steve’s cock again and twisting his wrist at the end. He moved forward, lined himself up and started sinking down slowly, taking the head of Steve’s dick into his hole.

Steve couldn’t help the noise that made its way out of his mouth, desperate and deep and breathy. It wasn’t like anything he’d ever felt before, the tight heat of Bucky’s body slowly slipping over him. It was like all his senses focussed in on the point where they bodies joined, where Bucky was moaning quietly and rolling his hips slowly, taking Steve deeper inside him.

“Jesus, Bucky -” Steve huffed, but losing any words he was going to follow with. He was impossibly tight, the stretch must be painful, but Bucky was smiling slightly with his brow creased in pleasure. He stilled then, seated all the way on top of Steve and reached for one of his hands, interlaced their fingers and held Steve’s arm up in front of him.

He started moving, and Steve gasped as he whole body felt it, these new muscles he still wasn’t completely used to catching taut, his shoulders rising up off the bed. Bucky grinned, eyes closed as he breathed heavily making quiet noises.

“You good, Stevie?” he asked, pressing his other hand on Steve’s chest to lie him flat again.

“Yeah, uh huh.” he said, breathless and wordless.

Bucky huffed half a laugh and leant forward, holding his weight on Steve for leverage as he sped up. They were groaning together then, Steve gripping harder at Bucky’s thighs as he moved with him, found a rhythm to meet his thrusts, watched as Bucky’s hard cock jumped up and down with their movements.

It was too much and not enough all at once, and Steve felt that greedy need taking over as all he wanted was this feeling to both climax and never end. Bucky was panting, noises getting caught high in his throat as he dug his fingers in deeper to Steve’s chest.

“You close, baby?” Bucky said, breathless.

“Yeah.”

“Come on then.” he said, starting to straighten up to get more range of movement.

“Wait, wait.” Steve said, tugging him back down. Bucky paused, looking at him like he’d broken some spell. Steve met his gaze and held it.

“Want you, too.” Steve whispered, knew he was giving too much away in his voice but he didn’t care. At the moment he just wanted – wanted Bucky in all the ways he always stopped himself from admitting.

Steve lifted his head from the pillow, caught Bucky’s mouth and kissed him hard and wet. He took hold of Bucky’s cock and started stroking steady, gasped against Bucky’s tongue as Bucky moaned and his body tightened around Steve.

Bucky pulled back and Steve made a low noise as he slid out of him, but Bucky was grabbing his shoulder, expression blown open with need.

“Move, come on.”

“Where am I going?”

“Just – come here.”

Bucky shifted on his back to the end of the bed with his knees bent over the mattress, positioned Steve to stand between his legs.

“Come on, Stevie.” he said more gently, and Steve realised his own face must have been showing all his conflicting anxiety and desire. Bucky reached up and ran his fingers through Steve’s hair, motioned him down into another kiss. “It’s ok, come on.”

Bucky’s other hand moved over Steve’s hip, squeezed his ass and pulled him forward and flush against his body, their dicks hot and slick between them. Steve was panting into Bucky’s mouth, their tongues moving over teeth and lips as though they could get even closer if they tried. Bucky’s hand was busy between their hips, and then he was gripping Steve’s cock and tilting his body to take him in again.

In this position Steve was suddenly sliding deep almost as soon as he was lined up, and both of them moaned, foreheads pressed together as Steve thought he was about to loose himself completely. Bucky pulled his knees up closer to his body, and impossibly Steve was even deeper and Bucky was crying out like something had just sparked to life inside of him.

“That’s it baby, come on, fuck me.” Bucky said, more breath than voice.

Steve entire body seemed to know what to do, like fucking Bucky was as naturel as breathing. Bucky was tilting his hips, meeting every thrust, and the noises he was making every time Steve pushed deep inside him were making Steve feel giddy.

“Jesus, fuck, Steve – just there, like that, yeah.”

Bucky’s hands were gripping tight across his back and shoulder, pulling Steve closer to him. Steve managed to get one of his hands between them, wrapped his fingers around Bucky’s cock and stroked him in time with his thrusts. Bucky's head pressed back into the pillow, his shoulders arching off the bed as he moaned high-pitched and breathy.

When he came he grabbed at Steve’s hair, held his head so he could look him in the eyes, and he was so beautiful. Steve felt like all the breath had been knocked out him by the look on Bucky’s face – frowning by open, mouth caught around a noise which sent shivers under Steve’s skin, eyes disbelieving but real and here and looking the way Steve felt but never let himself say.

Bucky’s whole body went loose then, boneless and heavy. Steve paused above him, not sure if he should carry on or pull out. He pushed a stray bit of hair from Bucky’s forehead behind his ear, and Bucky smiled but didn’t open his eyes.

“Don’t stop, Stevie. Want you to come. Still feels good.”

“Does it?” Steve asked, sounding as wrecked as he felt.

“Yeah.” Bucky said, looking up at him again through lidded eyes. “Come on.”

Steve started moving again, and it didn’t take long with the way Bucky was splayed out beneath him, the way he was looking at him like he’d just gotten something he didn’t think he was allowed. Bucky must has been able to read him, because just as he was about to come he tugged him down and kissed him deep and wet, humming quiet noises to answer Steve’s breathy moans.

Steve tried not to put all his weight on Bucky as he practically collapsed afterwards, but Bucky rearranged his limp body around his own so Steve lay on his front, half on the bed and half on Bucky’s chest.

Steve was floating somewhere above the roof. He’d never felt so light and so full at the same time before. It was a few minutes before he realised Bucky was idly running his fingers through his hair, his other hand protectively wrapped abound Steve’s shoulder.

“Bucky…”

“Yeah, punk?”

“That was -”

“Sh. Don’t, Steve. Just go to sleep.”

Steve must have fallen asleep pretty quickly, because the next time he opened his eyes the first pale light of the day was seeping through the curtains. He was lying on his back, Bucky still beside him. It was still really early, too early to wake up, but when he looked up at Bucky he was looking back at him, face unreadable.

Steve felt Bucky’s hand tentatively rest on his chest, fingers finding their way between his ribs. Bucky’s face had gone distant with half a smile fixed on his lips.

“This was your bad one, wasn’t it. I mean, both your lungs were shot but this one was the worst. Always sticky, making you choke on it.”

“Yeah.” Steve said quietly, not sure what else to say and not wanted to break this strange moment of being between one day and another, between what they had been and something else.

“Thought it was gonna kill you a couple years back. Last time you got pneumonia bad. Then that pleurisy, you were coughing so hard I was sure you were gonna break a rib. You never could catch your breath right after that winter.”

Steve put his hand over Bucky’s, moved them both up over his sternum, over his heartbeat. Bucky’s face got a little lost looking at their hands. 

“Don’t think that can happen now.” Steve replied.

“Yeah.” Bucky huffed, half smiling. “So you keep saying. Still tryin’ to stop me bein’ mad at you, huh?”

“Are you? Mad at me about it?”

“Course I fuckin’ am. I’ll get over it though. It’s still the dumbest thing you’ve ever done, but I’m sure you’ll do plenty dumber in the future.”

“That why you’re gonna hang around? Just so you can yell at me some more?”

“No, it’s not that. I still gotta follow your dumb ass wherever you go cuz I’m just as dumb as you. End of the line.”

Steve pressed his hand tight against Bucky’s, craned his neck up to meet his eye.

“You know you don’t have to – I can’t ask it of you, not after -”

“Shut up, Steve” he said without any heat. “You know I’m gonna. That’s that.”

“I – Bucky. I need you to know -”

“No, don’t.” he said, gently pressing Steve back down onto the bed and tightening his fingers in his hair. “Just go to sleep, yeah? It’s the middle of the night.”

The words sat uncomfortably in Steve’s mouth, trying to claw their way back in. But he let Bucky move him over, roll him on his side and pull in close behind him. He could feel Bucky’s breath on the back of his neck, just like he had a thousand time before.

It should feel different this time, but somehow it didn’t.


End file.
